Post by Chris, the Rebel Wolf on Sept 21, 2011 6:45:07 GMT -5
Tundra trekked wearily into a park, her finely shaped white head low, once pristine white fur covered in city grime. A good eye might have picked her husky build under all the filth, beneath the obvious showing ribs. An indifferent would have passed her off for just another city mutt, scarping a living until hit by a car or ripped from the street by the pound dog catchers. She pushed through undergrowth, avioding the sounds of humans. Even after all this time, staying away from people still hurt her heart.
Lifting her head, Tundra looked skyward for a second. Stars were just beginning to show in a hazy blueblack sky. But they could have just been planes going overhead. Tundra heaved a sigh and lowered her head. For that moment there had been the outline of a proud dog, a working dog, a dog with purpose. Then the visage was gone and once again Tundra was a plain old city dog.
Once she was sure there were no humans close by, she lifted her muzzle once again and voiced the lonely howl of a husky. Oh, for the days when her howl had gone answered by a chorus of similar voices...
But tonight there were no other husky howls to respond. From somewhere outside the park came the distinctive deep bark of Luca, the black German Shepherd. Tundra had foraged with him before and respected the way he knew the city, knew every trick for food, shelter and avioding capture. But that didn't mean she liked him. He was a grim, depressing dog to be around and she followed him only when her hunger demanded she needed to. She longed for the company of her own kind, and so she cried to the uncaring stars above.
Lifting her head, Tundra looked skyward for a second. Stars were just beginning to show in a hazy blueblack sky. But they could have just been planes going overhead. Tundra heaved a sigh and lowered her head. For that moment there had been the outline of a proud dog, a working dog, a dog with purpose. Then the visage was gone and once again Tundra was a plain old city dog.
Once she was sure there were no humans close by, she lifted her muzzle once again and voiced the lonely howl of a husky. Oh, for the days when her howl had gone answered by a chorus of similar voices...
But tonight there were no other husky howls to respond. From somewhere outside the park came the distinctive deep bark of Luca, the black German Shepherd. Tundra had foraged with him before and respected the way he knew the city, knew every trick for food, shelter and avioding capture. But that didn't mean she liked him. He was a grim, depressing dog to be around and she followed him only when her hunger demanded she needed to. She longed for the company of her own kind, and so she cried to the uncaring stars above.
